Why him?
by TracesOfTrueLove
Summary: Brendan struggles to cope with the death of the one person he truly loved. one shot. Stendan. M/M Warnings: Some bad language. Triggers. COMPLETED, PART 3/3 UP! Please read and review.
1. The Funeral

**Authors note: In this two shot, Brendan and Steven did have a secret relationship, but the break ups and abuse never happend. I don't like abusive Brendan so that's why I haven't wrote him like that. Thank you, and please read. **

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><p>Brendan looked at the strange man in front of him. This man was clearly upset, his eyes red and sunken, with massive grey bags weighing them down from obvious lack of sleep. His hair was scrunched up in loads of different places, not caring how bad it looked. His left eyebrow had stitches in it, followed by a deep gash along his left side cheekbone. His face was gaunt and white, he looked like he hadn't eaten in days, six days, five hours, twenty seven minutes and eight seconds, no eleven seconds to be precise. The exact time it was since everyone heard the news...<p>

Brendan shook his head, the weak man in the mirror doing exactly the same, hoping that some way this would ward of those bad memories. He didn't need them, he had to think how he was going to get through today. He needed to distract himself, and tried his best to fix his tie, but his shaking hands just wouldn't let him. Damn it Brendan pull yourself together.

Cheryl appeared behind him, her face full of sympathy that Brendan didn't want. He wasn't the one that was dead, it wasn't his funeral they were going to, but it should be. At first Brendan slapped her hands away when she went to do his tie for him, insisting he can do it, he isn't a child, but he gave in when Cheryl persisted. Truth be told, it wasn't going to get done if it was left down to Brendan. Finally he was ready and so was Cheryl. She has actually had the decency to dress smartly, with a long black dress, not her usual low cut ones, but a dress that actually somewhat flattered her. On any other occasion, Brendan would of complimented his sister on how beautiful she looked.

'Why are we dressing up anyway? It's not like it matters anymore.' Brendan thought bitterly. 'He's dead now, he doesn't know what we doing. He can't see how we look. Even if he could see, he would of wanted us to dress comfortably, be themselves, not all posh for him. Stephen would of laughed at the idea of everyone dressing smartly for him. He was as common as they come'.

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><p>He zoned out most of the funeral, not caring what the priest had to say. There were so many people around him. Cheryl at his side, crying her eyes out. Brendan knows she had become really close to Stephen over the last year or so, he had almost forgotten that she was grieving too. Amy stood on the front row, with Leah and little Lucas. They had no idea what was going on or why mummy was crying, and kept looking around, as if searching for their daddy. Their daddy who was currently in that coffin.<p>

Loud sobs could be heard coming from Steven's mother. They were obviously fake and seeking attention. She hadn't been a mother to Steven in years, choosing alcohol, drugs and goodness knows what over him each time. But now suddenly here she was, wanting attention for being the grieving mother. And then Terry Hay, standing next to her, holding her acting like the concerned step father, but Brendan could see the slight smirk on his face. Steven had told Brendan all about his childhood, how Terry would beat him, on a regular basis, while his mother laughed in his face, too drunk to care. Steven had broken down in tears as he recalled how they would tell him that he was better off dead. Well they certainly had their wish now, didn't they? _Bastards._

Brendan forcefully shut his eyes, closing out the rest of the room, he just need to focus on not breaking down. He can't show these people any emotion. He has to stay strong. He has too. They wouldn't understand, because they don't know. Just a couple more hours and then it will all be over, for good. A few hours until there is no more pain or heart ache.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading part one. Next part will be much longer, explaining what happened and concluding this short story. I hope you liked it and please review for any questions, request, praise or <strong>**criticisms. Also for other Stendan Fics, please check out my page, and also please spare a few seconds to answer my poll. **** Thank you.**

**-TracesOfTrueLove x**


	2. The Kiss

**I thought I would continue this seeing as a few seemed disappointed by my failure to carry it on. There will be one more part after this. I hope this chapter does not disappoint. **_  
><em>

**_2 weeks ago_  
><strong>

_ "Come on, Bren, let's get out of here." Ste said, sympathetically. He might not be the brightest bulb in the pack 90 of the time, but he could tell that Brendan was uncomfortable and was under immense strain trying not to show that to the younger man. It made Ste's heart skip a beat to see how far the Irish man had come. Sure he still might not be comfortable hanging out in a gay bar, even if they didn't know anyone there. But it was such a big step in what Brendan would tolerate even six months ago. Today Brendan had agreed to come out because they were celebrating a year. A year of being together; a new start, new beginnings. Over a year since Brendan had last hit Ste. A year of happiness._

_They quickly got out of the club, the relief evident on Brendan's face. It hurt Ste a little that Brendan was still so uncomfortable with their relationship he couldn't last longer than a few hours in a bar full of people they didn't know. But he knew, he should be grateful that Brendan was willing to try it, and didn't snap once. Heck, Brendan even danced with him on the dance floor. Granted, it was more like Ste attacked him out of nowhere, when Brendan had tried to go get them another drink, but Ste still like to count it._

_"You're drunk." Brendan said huskily, humour underlying his tone, before opening up the car door for Ste, who was struggling to find it._

_"Oh, and you're not?" Ste retorted huffily, getting in the car, crossing his arms and pouting like a five year old._

_"No, I am not, actually. I had to stay sober, so I can get your drunk ass back home." Ste didn't say anything, still sulking, for God knows what reason. "Then, when we are home, I am going to tear off all your clothes, and devour every inch of you." Brendan whispered into Ste's ear, making him squirm, pathetic mood forgotten about._

_"I think we should start telling people about us." Ste said bravely, after a few minutes of relaxed silence during the drive home._

_"Steven…" Came, Brendan's warning._

_"No, Brendan, I know what you're gonna say, but just hear me out, right?" Ste gave Brendan a sharp look, forcing Brendan to nod slowly. This caused Ste to beam like a Cheshire cat. 12 months ago, Ste would have got a punch to the gut for something like this. Now look at his tamed beast of a boyfriend. "We have been together for a year without any mishaps, or problems. God hasn't stricken us off the face of the Earth for performing unholy acts. We don't even have to tell everyone, just close people, like Amy and Chez. They deserve to know, and they won't judge us. They will be happy for us!"_

_"Fine."_

_"Just say you will at least think abo…" Ste trailed off as what Brendan said sunk in, he turned around to face the Irishman, who was smirking to himself. "Really? We can tell people?"_

_"Yes, if it would shut you up for just a few minutes." Brendan replied, regretting saying yes already. He turned to look at Ste as they reached a red light. "We can even walk through the village holding hand if it would make you so very happy. Now kiss me."_

_Part of the reason why Brendan demanded the kiss was because it was all a bit too much. The thought of telling people, terrified him to the core. Not that he was ever going to admit that. Ever. But he would no longer be the big bad Brendan Brady. People would see him differently because he was with a guy, he would be seen as weak, a target on his shoulder. Getting Steven to kiss him, helped him know that he hadn't lost control of everything; he still had Steven. The other reason being that Ste looked so adorably sexy when he was drunk._

_The kiss was slow and passionate. There was a perfect mix of love and desire. The pure lust they held for each other as their mouths wrestled for dominance. But the way Brendan brought his hand up to caress Ste's face showed the compassion and love. If when people kissed, sparks really did fly, then that kiss was bloody fifth of November._

_The changing of the traffic lights ended the kiss, with an unspoken promise of continuation at the next possible time. But in their desire ridden haze, neither saw the massive lorry come from the other side, crashing into the passenger side, right where Ste was sat. All Brendan heard was a blood curdling scream of pain before everything went black…_


	3. The End

The wake was in full swing, complete with Frankie Osbourne and Myra McQueen singing a horrible rendition of Raining Men. Whoever thought of karaoke at a funeral was appropriate is out of their mind and should just be shot. It was tacky and tasteless and Stephen would have hated it. Well actually he would probably have secretly loved it, but that is besides the point. HE is gone now, and everyone should be upset, not laughing and joking, it's not right.

Suddenly, the ugly step sisters had gotten off the stage, and Chez was there, talking about how great Stephen was, and what a brilliant friend he was to her, how they shared everything. Not everything, obviously, she doesn't know about me and Stephen. No one knows. She must have finished the speech because suddenly everyone was shouting 'here, here' and the familiar chink of glasses were heard.

"Now, He probably won't admit it, but I know someone who would love to say something about Ste. Brendan, you and Ste have grown incredibly close over this past year, would you like to come up and say something?" Cheryl announced, and suddenly every eye in the club turned to face me. No. No I don't bloody well want to say something. How the hell am I meant to go up there and stand there and talk about the person I loved when he was dead? Dead, gone forever.

Despite my internal battle, my body took me to the stage, and somehow I ended up in front of the mic, with everyone staring at me, waiting to see what the big bad Brendan Brady had to say about his employee –former employee.

"Erm, as Chez said, Stephen was a great lad.. The best, y'know? He never gave up, never." Where was I going with this? "And he shouldn't be gone. He should still be here, it should have been me instead. He didn't deserve it. And it's all my fault he's gone."

"Shh, it's okay Bren, it's okay. It's not your fault, don't cry." I was crying? I bet everyone was having a field day, Brendan Brady crying. But I don't care, I just continued to sob into Cheryl's arms. Where did she come from anyway?

"Don't say that." I told her.

"Say what?" Was her confused reply.

"That it wasn't my fault."

"But it wasn't, Bren, you must know that. The lorry came out of nowhere."

"SHUT UP!" I yelled, but the look on her face had me immediately my fault. "It is my fault, we weren't paying attention, _I _wasn't paying attention. I should've seen it, but I was too preoccupied. You should've seen his face before it happened, he was so happy. We were going to tell everyone. We were coming home, and we were going to tell you and Amy, and then everyone else. He was so happy."

"Tell us what?"

Ignoring her question, I continued. I had to, it was now or never, I had to tell her so she would understand why I had to do what I was going to do next. Make her understand, make everyone understand. "I promised him, that we could walk through the village together, holding hands. It was all he wanted. Ever since the beginning, all he wanted was to be able to walk through the village, holding my hand. Something so simple but he never got to do it. Because I was too cowardly to do it, before it was too late. I promised him, and I've broken that promise, because I was too busy kissing him to see the lorry, and now he's dead."

For the first time since I started talking, I looked up. Cherly stood there, her arms down at the side, her mouth agape processing the information that one of her best friends and her brother were gay for each other. It was then that I realised that everyone else in the room also hear, and they all had the same look of shock and something worse. Sympathy. I don't need there sympathy, I don't deserve it.

"Oh Bren… I didn't know, I'm so so…" Cheryl started, putting her hand on my shoulder, but I shook it off with a stern look.

"Don't. Don't say your sorry. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. None of it matters, because I am going to be with him again." And with that, I jumped of the stage and pushed my way through the crowd, ignoring Cheryl's shouts to stop and explain what the hell I meant by that statement.

I waited until just the right moment, before stepping backwards. I could hear the car screeching, trying to break in time, and the screams of horror from Cheryl and Amy who had chased after me. But it was too late. Everything once again went black, and then a brilliant white.

He was there. My angel. Grinning at me with that stupid smirk of his. I had a second chance, a chance to be with him again. And this time, I sure as hell am not going to mess it up again.

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><p>And that's it, guys! Sorry about how long there has been between parts, for such short ones. I hope this gives this story the right closure. Please don't forget to review, to keep me motivated in writing stories! Or just leave one telling me to buggar off if I should stop, whatever. Anyway, thank you very much! -K x<p> 


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